


Reflections and Ghosts

by TehRevving



Series: Heaven Sent [3]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Motorcycles, Oral Sex, Smut, Soulmates, Time Travel, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:14:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26010214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TehRevving/pseuds/TehRevving
Summary: Dante runs into the time travelling woman that changed his life 20 years ago, but it's the first time she's met him.He has to make an impression, somehow get her number. He's not great at the whole socialising or communicating thing though, so he decides to go with the next best thing..... getting her addicted to his cock.Dante x Fem Reader. Third Person. Flirting. Teasing. Eating Out. Sex. Pining. Time Travel. Soulmates
Relationships: Dante (Devil May Cry)/Original Female Character(s), Dante (Devil May Cry)/Reader
Series: Heaven Sent [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851154
Comments: 19
Kudos: 112





	Reflections and Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> This is a smutty follow up to my fic [ One Chance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24177388), you don’t have to read it before you read this one, but you should, cause smut.  
> Anyway, all you need to know for this fic is something like 20 years ago, Dante met his future mate because of time travel shenanigans. Tonight he finds her again, even though she's never met him before.  
> This is so self indulgent and ridiculous honestly I feel a little bit embarrassed about it but yolo. Enjoy

Dante honestly doesn’t even know he stopped at this shitty rundown bar, with paint peeling from the walls, terrible acoustics and the permeating stench of old cigarettes, stale booze and piss. Sure, the job he’d barely managed to get through today had been awful, but honestly nothing that warm pizza, a stiff drink and jerking off in the shower wouldn’t fix. 

But he’s here, for some unfathomable reason, nursing a slightly warm drink at the bar. Wondering what the fuck he’s doing with his life, when he’s suddenly overwhelmed by a scent that reminds him of home. It permeates through the stench of piss; a sweet cloud of cinnamon and warmth and instantly, he knows what it is. 

He turns his head towards the entrance to the bar in disbelief, and that’s when he sees her. There’s no chorus of angels singing or anything like that, there’s absolutely nothing to suggest that the unassuming woman stepping through the doors is anything other than completely ordinary. If not for her scent, he doesn’t think he would have recognised her, it’s been a long time and he’s terrible with faces. But now he’s seen her, a switch has flicked in his head, and a flood of badly repressed memories start appearing, fighting for space in his head. 

The entire focus of his night, his life, has changed. Instead of just wallowing in his own sorrow, now he has to somehow gather up the courage to speak to her and not scare her off. He needs to be charming, funny and somehow pretend that he’s not already obsessed with her. 

The scent of her gets stronger as she walks further into the bar, as she passes underneath the fan and the shitty air conditioning unit. The scent of her echoes through his head, accompanying the memories. He sees flashes of a warm smile and arms wrapped around his waist. He sees soft tits pressed against his face, a knife pressed to his throat as the overwhelming scent of arousal fills his nostrils. One vision hits him vividly, stops him in his tracks, the image of an angel, with a halo of horns and wings of hellfire. 

Her back pressed against his front, his hand working furiously on her clit, her tight body tensing around his cock. An arm around her front, between her breasts, calloused fingers squeezing gently at her throat. Her head forced to the side, fangs scraping skin while his name is cried loudly to the heavens. Nails clawing desperately at his horns as fangs sink deep into her yielding flesh. Winged talons on her hip and kneading greedily at her breast, the scorching, sweet taste of blood pouring into his mouth as he spills himself deep inside her shuddering body. 

He can’t believe he’d ever forgotten these memories, can’t believe he managed to push them to the side. They’re insistent now, at the forefront of his mind, replaying over and over in time with the now insistent throbbing of his cock. 

He barely registers that the scent of her has gotten stronger, moved closer to him and his awareness snaps suddenly when he hears a soft breath next to him. He turns and sees her standing there, smiling at him with that warm, beautiful smile. 

“What’s your pleasure?” Her voice is soft, sweet, he sees her lips move, the smile on her lips, the flick of her tongue and he almost comes, untouched and desperate in his pants. 

He uses almost every ounce of his power to force himself to get back in control. He struggles to tamp down the demonic energy that wants to make horns erupt from his skull, the glow from surging through his eyes and the shudder that threatens to race trembling down his spine. 

It’s barely been a moment, but he’s done his best. Dante knows there’s been no outward sign of his struggle, apart from maybe the pulsing of his cock in his pants, but he hopes she’s not paying attention to that. 

He takes in a breath, he can do this. She’s gesturing to his drink, but he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t want his first words to her to be the name of a drink, but does it even matter? He should start cool, casual, not tell her that his pleasure is her, that it’s always been her and always will be?

He turns to face her properly, trying not to stare as he takes in the undeniable fact that she’s there in front of him. The scent of her, the colour of her eyes, the soft lilt of her voice. He decides that the best thing to do is to just be himself, well to lean into the act that he’s put on his entire life. One day he’ll be ready to tear down those walls for her, but for now he just puts on a grin. 

“I’m drinking Jacks and coke, but,” he makes a show of looking her up and down, “I could be convinced to try something a little bit different” and he finishes up with an over the top wink, just so she knows he’s not actually being serious. 

She laughs, properly laughs and the sound makes his heart sing. He can’t help but smile with her, even though his heart is racing. That wasn’t so difficult was it? He takes in another deep breath, he can do this. 

She gives him a quick once over once he’s spoken to her. A polite one, a quick glance up and down his body before quickly returning to his face. He might preen and flex just a little bit underneath her gaze. He does the same to her in response, a quick look up and down and he can’t believe he hadn’t noticed her attire sooner. 

She’s wearing red, his colour, a low cut shirt showing a teasing hint of the cups of her black bra. The straps have slipped slightly and he can see a cute white bow on the strap of her bra glowing in the shitty light. She’s wearing a short skirt, a tight little skirt; she’d only have to bend over a little bit to get a peek at her panties, he idly wonders if they match her bra. 

“Like what you see there handsome?” she chuckles and winks back at him. She’s then distracted by the bartender making an appearance, and Dante breathes out a quick sigh of relief. She speaks quickly and then sits down on the stool next to him. 

The scent of her is overwhelming and he tamps down intrusive thoughts of throwing her against the bar and making her scream for him. There’s only the tiny barrier of her panties stopping him, and he’s been waiting for her for so long. The dark creature in the back of his head purrs seductively. Dante snarls back at it, forces it to the back of his mind. He doesn’t need that sweet, low voice reminding him that she’s his mate, that she wouldn’t say no to him. 

Dante takes in a deep breath, reminds himself that she doesn’t even know his name yet. It helps. 

She holds her glass up to him once she’s been served, and there’s a slightly cooler glass next to his current one. “To drinking alone” she smiles and then takes a long sip. She introduces herself and he does as well. He repeats her name, tests it on his lips once she says it, trying to pretend like he hasn’t murmured it through gritted teeth every time he’s come for the past god knows how long. 

“Why are you drinking here alone?” she asks him, tilting her head, “bad day at work?”

He nods.

She sighs and runs a hand through her hair, throwing more scent in his direction. “Yeah me too,” she takes a long sip of her drink, “just fuck today completely.”

“I can drink to that,” Dante smirks and takes another sip. 

It’s just small talk, but it comes to him easier than he expected. Now that he’s engaged in a conversation he finds that he can control himself a lot better, that he doesn’t have to beat back the instincts simmering in the back of his head. 

He must be doing alright with the small talk, because she moves her chair closer to him. She pretends to slip while getting back on the stool and brushes her hand against his thigh for support. His skin sparks through his dark jeans when she touches him, and it confirms something that he’s wondered about for a while now. Maybe something that explains why he’s so fucked up. 

She’s easy to talk to, even though he’s freaking out inside. Soon though he has an arm slung around her shoulders while she leans in against his chest. She’s warm, soft, comforting, it feels natural having her slotted against his body. He has to remind himself to act natural, aloof, to pretend he’s not already obsessed with her. 

She drains her glass and smiles at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Come and dance with me.”

He turns to look at the barely there dance floor and he’s not sure why she’d want to. The music is terrible, turned up too loud and there’s just a few drunk patrons tripping over the alcohol stained floor. 

He follows behind her and soon he has his hands on her waist, and he realises why she wanted to dance. He’d almost forgotten how large his hands seem against her, she lays her hands on his chest, not quite able to reach around his neck. He doesn’t mind. Her palms are warm through his shirt and his skin prickles with sparks every time he takes a breath. 

She squeezes at his chest, and then he hears a hitch in her breath. He looks down and sees her staring intently at his chest, her hands squeeze his pecs, thumbs outlining the shape of them through his shirt. A finger gently flicks over his nipple and he sucks in a breath as it sends a spark straight down his spine. 

“Having fun there?” he smirks down at her playfully. He laughs when she pulls her hands away with a small squeak and he reaches down and puts them back on his chest with a smile. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

They sway together for a while, not at all matching the beat of the music. The bass is heavy though, and she’s grinding her hips against him. There’s no way she can’t feel how hard he is, how desperate he is for her. She keeps palming at his chest as well, and it’s driving him crazy. 

Her hands fist in his shirt and she pulls him down. She kisses softly at first, a gentle touch of her lips to his. Dante thinks for a moment that he’s actually forgotten how to kiss someone, it’s been so long. Then her tongue is licking at his lips, and the taste of her overwhelms his senses. 

He can’t help but groan, he wants more, so much more. He puts a hand on the back of her head, his arm pressing along her back. He threads fingers into her hair and pulls her to him. He wants to lift her up off the dirty floor, press her body flush against his, but he has to hold back. He just lets her devour him. He doesn’t need to breathe, he can have her forever, or so he thinks until she pulls his tongue into her mouth and rubs her own against it and he’s forced to pull away, otherwise he’s just going to lose it. 

Dante belatedly realises that he’s growling from deep within his chest and he has no idea how to stop. 

She laughs and the sound rings sweet in his ears, “you like that huh?” Her grin turns dark, “do you wanna see what else my tongue can do?”

He’s speechless at her teasing, and he just lets her touch him. Her hand runs down his body, moves from his chest to his waist and then his hips. He watches her face, watches her expression as she runs her palm across the bulge in his pants, teasing at the thick outline of his cock. Her eyes widen in shock, because he’s big and because her adventurous hand hasn’t found the head of him yet. The sparks from her touch against his cock are brutal, and he struggles to keep his eyes from rolling back in his head. 

“Holy Shit,” she exclaims and Dante struggles to grin normally, not predatorily. “You’re a big boy huh?” she purrs, squeezing the head of his cock. “Why don’t we get out of here?”

Dante finds that his legs are shaking slightly, that he’s hyper focused on her. He can hear her heart race, her breathing increase as his cock continues to grow against her palm. 

Shit they have to leave right now. 

He really shouldn’t bring her back to the office, his room is a mess, the whole place is a mess. But he can’t just go to hers, what if he destroys it? At least if he breaks stuff at the office then it doesn’t matter. 

He slides an arm around her lower back and gently guides her out of this disgusting place, never intended to come back. He can feel leers from several other patrons on his back and he hates how just generally sleazy some of these assholes are. He should really turn on the demonic fuck off vibes, radiate energy until they’re all pissing themselves to teach them a lesson. He doesn’t though, because of the holy creature nestled in the crook of his shoulder. He wonders if that might turn her on though, once she’s used to him. He wants it to. 

“Are you serious?” she exclaims when she realises that he’s leading towards his motorcycle and not a car. It’s shiny, sleek, accented with red and pretty badass.

He pulls a helmet out of the body of the bike for her, she puts it on and he adjusts the fit. She doesn’t need one of course, it’s not like he would ever let anything happen to her. But he should keep up some appearances. She doesn’t question him not wearing one though, which he’s happy about. 

Dante turns, kicks the stand and holds the bike steady. He straddles it and adjusts his grip on the handlebars while she climbs on behind him. She messes with his coat a little bit to get comfortable and then her sparking hands settle on his waist. 

“Hold on Sweetheart,” he grins, “you ready?”

He revs the engine, probably a little bit too hard. The sound echoes almost unbearably loud through the empty night as his bike comes to life. Her hands tighten around him and he can’t help but grin, driving off into the night. 

He screams down the street for a few minutes, probably going way too fast, but he doesn’t care. He can tell when she gets comfortable with his driving though because her hands move from his waist. They press flat against his stomach and he flexes and tenses for her curious fingers. 

She squeezes at his chest again. He tenses his arms on the handlebars to make it firmer for her, and he can practically feel her shiver in delight. Back then, he recalls that she hadn’t played much with his chest, seemed much more fixated on his hips. He doesn’t mind though, because her sparking touch over his heart feels absolutely incredible. 

He tries to pay extra attention to the road, otherwise he’s going to freak out or fall apart. He tries not to think about how her hands are slowly sliding down from his chest. Tries not to think about how he’s going to get laid tonight, not just that though, that he’s going to be joined with his mate once more.

In fact, he’s done such a good job of distracting himself, that it’s only when he hears a barely audible hitch in her breath that he belatedly realises she’s managed to get most of his fly undone. The soft, tentative drag of her palm over his aching cock almost undoes him. He’s thankful he decided not to go commando today, not that the thin material of his underwear offers any protection from the crackling energy on her skin. 

He focuses on staying in his lane, on not swerving out of it as she undoes that last button and her hand snakes properly into his pants. He rumbles deep in his chest as she wraps her fingers around the base of his cock, as she feels out the girth of him. 

There are traffic lights up ahead and Dante prays for them to stay green. He doesn’t care about running them, but trust tonight to be the night he gets pulled over. He wonders if she’d enjoy a fast paced street chase, wonders if she’d keep playing with his cock while he outran the law. 

As can be expected, they’re far before that point of no return when the lights flick to yellow. He moves to put on the brakes but she’s faster and squeezes his balls. 

Dante hisses and tears through the now red light as she laughs bodily behind him. 

He’s not mad, he’s elated, he feels alive. He is concerned though, because while reckless things like that aren’t dangerous when he’s involved, she doesn’t know that yet. A reckless partner does match quite well with his personality though, he thinks, but he’ll have to keep an eye on her. 

He finally pulls up at the shop, haphazardly parking his bike completely diagonally out the front. He just doesn’t care because her hands are in his pants, and he doesn’t know how much more he can take. He kicks the stand down and climbs off the bike, barely tripping over his undone pants. 

She takes off her helmet, shakes her hair out and covers the front of his shop with her scent. She holds onto the helmet and Dante reaches over and lifts her off the bike; figuring he may as well show off some of his strength. 

“Home sweet home,” he gestures over the top, before fucking up and proceeding to fumble with his keys. There’s only three keys on the damn ring but apparently that’s too many for his stupid, aroused, monkey brain to handle. He really shouldn’t be this flustered, it doesn’t make him look good, but she’s laughing behind him, and the sound warms his heart. 

He finally gets the door open and the bell chimes, like it’s mocking him. The room is dark, he doesn’t need the light but she does, so he hits the switch near the door. Thankfully, the power is actually on at the moment, and a single dim bulb flickers in the ceiling…. And then continues to flicker. Dante sighs, he would have changed it if he’d known. 

He holds the door open and gestures for her to enter first. He watches as she looks around, squinting in the dim light as she checks out the place. He’s reminded of all those years ago, when the place was still in shambles and she crashed through the door like she owned the place. It’s a strange thought that one day she’ll be comfortable enough here to call it home. He steps in behind her, shuts the door and then flicks the lock as he turns back to her. 

He’s barely twisted around before she’s on him, one of her hands on his hips and the other on the collar of his shirt. She pulls him down for a brutal kiss that leaves him breathless, pushing him against the door. He goes willingly as the wood creaks and the bell chimes again. 

He has one hand in her hair again, the other grabbing a handful of her delicious ass. He pulls her against him, angling her hips just right. She gasps and Dante moans low in his throat as her hip presses against his cock. He wants more. He wants so much more.

Fuck it, he thinks and lifts her up into the air with one hand. She pulls away from his lips in shock, but quickly gets the idea and locks her legs around his waist, settling against him. She’s exquisite and his knees go weak as the slight wet patch at the centre of her panties presses against his crotch. She lets out a little sound, a small hitch of breath as his hardness presses against her clit. He devours the sound, pulling her flush against him so he can rock his hips against her. 

She has one hand pressed against his chest, over his desperately beating heart. Her other is in his hair, pulling at it in retaliation for his own movements. She uses the slight amount of height she has on him to force his head back. She takes control of the kiss, devouring him. He remembers her doing it all those years ago, pulling on his hair and effortlessly sinking into his lap and taking control. It makes his cock ache and pulse against her wet core. 

He starts walking and her lips move to his neck. She’s light in his arms, barely a noticeable weight, but it’s still tricky to walk while she nips at his jugular, his undone pants and erection not helping his gait either. 

Somehow he manages to get up the stairs, fumbling with the door to his room as her teeth scrape against his skin. He doesn’t even know why the damn thing is shut in the first place, it’s not like anyone but him ever comes up here. 

Dante is relieved though when he steps inside his room, sees that his bed is clear of rubbish and the whole space is moderately presentable. He turns the light on, but the bulb barely even flickers. He sighs. 

He sets her carefully down on his bed and she whines as he pries her off his body. He’s mesmerized by the sight of her, his mate, lying in his nest with her scent mingling with his own on the sheets. She looks incredible, hair messy and lips swollen from kisses and the scratch of his stubble. Her makeup is smudged, shirt askew and it’s so fucking hot. Her legs are slightly parted and he can smell her arousal now, the pheromones surrounding her and the irresistible scent of her slick. 

Dante shrugs off his coat and throws it to the floor. He wants her to undress him, wants to feel her hands on his skin, but his coat is too much fabric, it’s just going to get in the way. 

He stares at her, standing between her legs and looming over her. She doesn’t miss a beat though, sitting up slightly, biting her lip and winking at him. She moves her hands just over her breasts and starts undoing her buttons. It’s the best strip tease ever as she slowly works her fingers down, and he’s mesmerized by the sight of more of her skin being revealed to him. 

“Fuck,” he breathes as she throws her shirt to the side of the room. Then he’s on her. He crowds her with his much larger body as his lips assault her neck. He watches her skin flush and grow irritated from the scratch of his stubble and the press of his teeth. 

“Can I touch you?” he breathes out against her ear.

“Yeah,” she smiles and then his hand is immediately at her breast. He kneads the bra covered flesh with greedy fingers and he can feel her heart racing underneath her skin. 

His breath is hot against her neck, and the room is scorching. There are so many things that he wants to do, wants to touch. He’s overwhelmed by the choices. She slides a bare leg between his own, presses her thigh against his aching erection. He whines, unable to help it as his head drops and his teeth dig into her flesh. 

He pulls down the cup of her bra, nuzzles her supple flesh with his scratchy cheek. He moves his lips to her nipple, runs his tongue over it and then sucks it between his lips as he presses his hips against her leg. She gasps and moans, the sound is addicting and his cock, still clothed leaks against her thigh. Her nails start to dig into his back and he can’t handle it anymore. 

He wants to spend more time worshipping her, but his body has other ideas. He has all the time in the world later though now to play with her he figures, but it still hurts as he pulls away. She whines as his lips leave her breast and the sound almost causes him physical pain. 

Dante’s breathing is heavy, desperate and he’s struggling to suppress the growls deep in his throat. He looks down at her while she writhes underneath him. His hands are at the tops of her thighs, just underneath her skirt and he slides the fabric upwards until he can make out the matching black lace of her panties and the wet patch at their centre. The scent is overwhelming, and his brain grinds to a halt and fills with thoughts of only one thing. Devouring her. 

Her hand reaches down to him. She grabs at the hem of his shirt and tries to pull it up. 

“Later.” He snaps, pushing her hands away, his voice two toned and sharp. Dante immediately recoils, pulling back in shock. She’s staring at him with wide eyes and his heart drops. He hopes to God she didn’t notice his voice. 

Dante runs a hand through his sweaty hair, willing his frantic heartbeat and breathing to slow. He counts slowly and focuses on his hands, on his skin, on his breaths and slowing his heartbeat. It’s a strange form of meditation, the only thing he’s ever found that helps with the non human urges. He’s so glad she taught him, all those years ago. 

“Are you alright?” she sits up, looks at him with concern in her eyes. 

He can’t really explain how he’s feeling. He can’t tell her what exactly he is yet, he doesn’t want to scare her off.

He takes in a deep breath, “It’s been a little while for me,” he says sheepishly, “maybe I’m a little bit over eager.”

She smiles, “there’s no pressure.” She takes his hand, strokes the back of his knuckles with her fingers. The sparking sensation helps ground him somewhat. “Why don’t you tell me what you wanna do to me,” she winks, “and we can go from there.”

Dante grinds his teeth together before getting the courage to speak. Saying it out loud is going to make it worse. “I wanna eat you out,” he pants and tries to keep speaking, but now he’s said it out loud his stupid primal brain is stuck in an infinite loop of thinking about how fucking good she’s gonna taste. 

She waits for him to say something else, and then chuckles when he doesn’t. “Alright then, anything else?”

He takes in another breath, “I wanna feel you come around my cock.”

She squeezes his hand and smiles warmly. “You’ve got a bit of a kink for your partner’s pleasure huh?”

Only yours, he wants to say. He wants to tell her that his entire being craves the smell, the taste of her pleasure and the flex of her muscles when she comes. Instead he just nods and quietly says, ”yeah.”

“Well,” she taps on her chin in thought. “I wanna see what you’re hiding between your legs, because I honestly just don’t believe what I’ve been feeling.” Then she lowers her voice, leans in closer to him, “and then I wanna feel it split me in half.”

Dante grits his teeth, shuts his eyes for a moment and struggles to clamp down on the surge of arousal and energy at her words that threatens to make horns erupt from his skull.

She looks at him curiously, and waits for him to open his eyes again. She must think he’s crazy.

“Why don’t you just relax for a little bit, let me touch you, and then we can see how we go?” She smiles, her expression warm. 

“Alright,” and he gives a small smile.

She leans down and starts removing her shoes, so he does the same. The pause does make his head a little bit clearer. 

She leans up and kisses him softly, her hands playing with the hem of his shirt once more. She pulls it up, only breaking the kiss to pull it over his head and throw it to the side. Her hands spark on his bare skin as she touches him as she plays with his chest once more. She tweaks his nipple with curious fingers, and then does it again when it makes him bite down on her lip. 

She pulls away to look closer at him, to look at his naked chest, “Is there anything you don’t want me to touch?”

“All yours,” he says softly, gesturing.

“Mmm, you’re in excellent shape,” she murmurs lowly, running her hands softly across the planes of his chest. She traces the outline of the large scar that lays heavy across his sternum. “What even causes something like this?” she whispers to herself and runs her lips across it before pulling back.

“I made some stupid descisions when I was younger,” he says. He knows that one day he’s going to end up telling her everything, and the thought of it is terrifying, even though he knows he can trust her. That he’ll be able to trust her. 

“How long is a while?” she asks him once her hands are on his hips, her thumbs running against the deep v in between them. Her heated touch feels good and he flexes underneath her touch. He remembers how much she used to touch him there back then, how she would play with lips and teeth and nails and knives. It’s been a sensitive place for him ever since. She’s staring at his crotch, and he wishes that she’d just go for it. 

He moves his hands from balling in the sheets to rest them on her waist. “Fifteen years maybe.”

She stops and looks up at him in disbelief. “Seriously?” 

He nods.

“And you chose me. Damn. I better make it worth your while then huh?” She winks.

Her hand is on his crotch once again and he can’t help but groan. The anticipation is killing him, and he’s so fucking hard he can barely stand it. 

“If I knew you better, I’d draw this out more,” she smirks, her voice dark. “Tease that big bulge through your pants with my tongue, my teeth. I get off on shit like that,” she grins and looks up at him to gauge his reaction, which is his eyes rolling back in his head. She laughs, “maybe another time though,” and leaves it open ended, not expecting an answer. He’s excited though, that she mentioned there being another time.

She tugs on his jeans, and he lifts his hips to help her. If it was just him, if she knew about him, then he’d just tear them to shreds with his claws. 

Her hands rest just on the inside of his thighs, and she stares down at the throbbing outline of him through his boxers, her gaze focusing on the large wet patch at the tip. 

“There’s no way this is real,” she muses, pressing down on the wet spot on the fabric while he breathes out through gritted teeth.

She tugs his boxers down and gasps audibly when his cock springs up and smacks wetly against his skin, smearing sticky fluid. 

“Oh fuck me,” she murmurs under her breath and he can smell a sudden gush of arousal as she lays eyes on him. 

“That’s the plan,” he smirks and winks but she’s too in awe of his cock to reply. That sure as hell strokes his ego.

“Such a big boy. A big man,” she whispers, carefully wrapping a small hand around his shaft. Her fingers don’t even come close to touching around him. She strokes him gently, surprising him as she runs her hands up and down to get a feel of him. Her touch sparks across sensitive skin and it’s utterly addicting. 

She watches his face, trying to discover what he likes. She carefully moves her hand, twisting her wrist, gathering precome from his tip and smearing it on his shaft. He’s surprised at how gentle she is, he expects her to be rougher, more assertive. He remembers though that she’s never touched him before, of course she’d start slow. 

She quickly works out a rhythm, stroking firmly while her other hand alternated between playing with his balls and squeezing the head of his cock. “Damn, it’s exhausting giving you a handy huh?” she laughs, “there’s just so much area to cover.” That’s when he decides he’s had enough. 

“Stop,” he says and she does immediately. 

He leans down and kisses her, pushes her down against the bed. She goes willingly, the scent of her overwhelming. He pulls down her skirt and she lifts her hips to help him, until she’s lying spread out in front of him in only her panties with her breasts popping out of her askew bra.

He leans down and smells her, takes deep breaths that makes something inhuman at the back of his head purr with delight. He snaps the band of her panties just to see her yelp, then pulls them down her legs. 

She’s bare to him then, glistening wet with the scent of her calling to him like a drug. He’s famished and he couldn’t resist her even if he wanted to. He can’t stop the way that he sinks down onto his arms, and wraps a hand around her leg to pull her cunt to his face. 

The first long drag of his tongue against the length of her sex makes her moan and taste of her pulls a growl from deep within his chest. The sound of her pleasure make his whole body tingle. She tastes like heaven, sweeter than any dessert. He could eat her forever, he wants to gorge himself on her, make up for all the time he’s wasted not being with her. 

She’s loud, moaning and gasping with each press of his thick tongue against her swollen clit. He worships her with everything he has as her hands move down to knot into his hair. Her legs shake and she cries out when he presses his tongue inside her. She’s so fucking tight he has to press his hips down into the mattress just to get some relief. 

He holds her legs open with his broad shoulders, a hand hooked under one delicious thigh so he can control her position. Her fingers pull tight at his hair, the sparks of pleasure and pain only spur him on. 

The urge to change his tongue, to make it a little bit longer and more flexible is irresistible. The sound that she makes when it flicks and twists a little bit too controlled against her g spot almost makes him come. He desperately, greedily savours the fresh wave of slick that catches thick on his tongue. He moves a hand between her legs, carefully presses two fingers inside of her. He stretches her open, memorising the feel of her insides and then carefully crooks them upwards until she screams. 

It’s messy and she’s so wet as Dante sucks on her clit and flicks at it with his spiked tongue. His fingers and palm are drenched from her and it’s incredible. Her pulse races for him and he’s desperate for more.

He wonders idly if he can make her love him like this, wonders if maybe this is how he manages to convince her to stay. All he needs to do is get her addicted to his fingers and his mouth and his cock, aso that she won’t ever leave him. 

It’s so utterly easy to pleasure her, his heightened senses effortlessly zeroing in on every single reaction. He can hear her blood as it rushes through her veins and feel each pulse and throb of her body against too sensitive fingertips. He can tell when the blood is rushing heavy and hot to her clit, so he sucks on it, and he can tell when the pleasure throbs and burns through her swollen g spot, so he moves his fingers. 

Soon, far too soon. He needs to work on her stamina so that he can edge her. He wants her truly desperate and begging for him, crying out and shaking in his arms. She screams for him while her clit throbs heavy against his tongue. She’s going to come, he knows it, he can feel it, he needs it desperately. Her whole body goes taught, her muscles tensing and her breath catching in her throat as pleasure races down her spine. Her fingers rip at his hair and the pain is so fucking good. The sound of her, the sparking pricks and pleasure and pain. The desperate throb of her body around his fingers, against his lips. It’s too much. 

Dante comes when she does, making a mess of his sheets. He comes when her body explodes with pleasure against him and she trembles around his fingers. He ruts his aching cock against the sheets, chasing every wave of sensation as she squirts sweet cream against his lips. He laps at her release greedily and uses the taste of it to hold back the transformation that threatens to burst forth from him. 

He fucks her through her orgasm, crooking his fingers in time with the sparks of pleasure he can sense racing down her spine. He makes her come again, mere moments after the first time. The first time he’s made her come, he’ll never forget this moment. He spears his fingers before the shockwaves have a chance to wane. Again and again he repeats the movements. He makes her shudder and scream with pleasure. He could do this forever, all she would need to do is ask. He would never grow tired of the feel of her against him, or the way her sweet release pours onto his tongue. 

He only stops when he notices that she’s struggling to breathe, that her body is probably shaking and trembling too much. He doesn’t want to overwhelm her. He withdraws his fingers and his heart aches at the whine that escapes from her lips. He looks at his messy fingers and changes his attention to licking them clean while she recovers. Shit he’s already desperate for more of her.

“Oh my fucking God.” She’s breathless, voice hoarse and cracking. Dante’s heart and ego swells with pride. 

“You never had anyone take proper care of you before Baby Girl?” He’s breathless too, but he smirks as he lowers her hips down to the bed. He wipes her release from his lips and looks up at her from between her legs. 

“Fuck.” Her head falls back to the pillow. 

He nuzzles at the inside of her thigh, biting back a laugh as her leg shakes against him. The sensation is probably too much, especially because it’s been awhile since he shaved. He doesn’t want her to forget who made her feel like this. She lies there, prone and exhausted on his bed and Dante takes in the sight, commits it to memory as he pushes his damp hair back from his face, knotted from her desperate fingers. 

“Are you okay?” he smiles at her. Her heart rate is still through the roof and she’s shaking.

“That was fucking crazy,” she groans and holds her arms out for him. He’s not quite sure what she wants, but he moves up the bed anyway. He winces slightly as his oversensitive and wet cock drags against the sheets and then her leg. He moves until his arms are on either side of her shoulders, hovering there until she pulls him down into a desperate kiss. 

He kisses her slowly, it’s tricky because she’s still breathing so hard. She licks at his lips, even though he must taste like her. She pulls away from him to breathe every now and then, and in the lull he kisses at her cheek, her jaw, anything he can reach. 

He kisses her until her hands start roaming his body, nails digging into his waist and teeth on his lip. He lets her touch him, and can’t help but moan and sink heavily down onto his forearms as her curious hand wraps around his cock.

Her touch is gentle, like it was before, but she moves with a rhythm now. She runs her hand up and down the length of his shaft while he groans heavy against her lips. She pulls away from him and he struggles not to chase after her with his hips. He feels her shifting, notices that she’s raised her hand to his face, and that her palm is smeared with white. 

“Did you come?” she asks with a soft voice, slightly surprised. 

He lets out a non commital grunt in response. 

“It’s okay,” she reassures him, “in fact,” she whispers right up against his ear, “it’s fucking hot.”

The sound sends shivers down his spine.

“Do you want to keep going?”

“Please,” he begs against the soft skin of her jaw.

She pushes against his chest softly as she starts sitting up. Dante gets up on his knees and then helps her. 

“Damn, my head is still spinning a little bit,” she says, looking up at him. He hopes she doesnt notice that he’s staring. He still can’t believe that she’s right there in front of him, tangible. 

He watches as her gaze moves down his body and her hand moves to his waist. “We can’t exactly keep going when you’re in this state can we?” she states, matter of factly and her expression is suddenly dark. Dante doesn’t know what she means, but then he notices that she’s bending down. 

She moves one hand to the base of his cock and her other tightens around his waist. She holds him steady while she lowers her head, closer and closer until he can feel the hot puffs of her breath against his aching cock. He sees another vivid memory suddenly, of her sinking down and down and down, taking his whole length down her throat in one fluid motion. He hopes she’s not planning to try that with him tonight, he doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it without triggering. 

Dante can’t help but groan as his body twitches, helpless against her hand. She runs the flat of her tongue in a slow, long lick up the head of him, cleaning the smeared streaks of come from his skin. 

She pulls back with shock. “Holy shit you taste amazing,” she murmurs and Dante is too busy struggling not to buck his hips up against her sparking tongue to reply. 

She twirls her tongue around the head of him, cleans up the mess he made. She digs her tongue into the far too sensitive skin bunched up against the head of his cock, working thoroughly. She moves back up, slicks the sensitive head of him between her lips. She sucks so hard that it takes everything Dante has not to buck up against her, not to roll her over and throw her down and have her. The fibres of the sheets protest where he’s balled them up in his fists, to reign himself in. 

She licks him like he’s candy, and when she finally pulls off with a loud pop and an exclamation of “there we go, all clean.” It’s too soon. 

She notices that his eyes are a little bit blown out and glazed over. She smiles at him, presses her palm gently to his cheek, to get him to focus on her. It works, cutting through his hazy mind. 

“Do you have protection?” She looks up at him, “I have condoms in my purse but,” she eyes him up and down, “I don’t think they’re gonna fit you.”

It takes a while for him to work out what she’s talking about, and then Dante’s heart sinks. Shit. Of course she would want to be safe and he respects that, even though he knows he can’t get her pregnant without some prior preparation, and that his immune system is far too good for her to catch anything from him. It’s not like he’s prepared though, he hasn’t bought condoms in years. Even if there were some at the back of his drawer, they’d be expired. 

He tries to not let the disappointment show on his face. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do, until an actual light bulb goes off in his head. He borrowed Nero’s wallet last week, threw it in his drawer for safe keeping. Dante prays for just this one thing to go his way. He begs for Nero to actually be the good girl scout that he appears to be.

“Just a moment,” Dante says to her and then turns to go through his drawer. He pulls out Nero’s wallet, heart racing and flicks through it. “Jackpot,” he murmurs under his breath, grinning as two obscenely large condoms fall out of one of the zips.

He turns back to her and she plucks the wrapper from his fingers. She inspects it and then tears it open. “You ready?” she asks.

He nods. 

She knows what she’s doing, holding his cock steady at the base, pinching the tip and then rolling it down and down, and down the length of him. She presses it snugly at the base and then sighs and then smiles, “this is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen.” 

She pokes at him, and his cock bobs from the pressure. “Now uh,” she says her voice low, “I should be able to take most of you. I’m not totally sure but I know that I can take about 8 inches and you look uh…..”

“Ten,” he finishes for her.

“Right. Ten. Holy Shit.” Her eyes widen, “let’s just take it slow alright?”

She lies herself down on her back, pulls him on top of her as she goes. He kisses her again, holds her in his arms. He revels in the heat of her, the pressure and sparking of her naked body stretched out against him. He holds her hips in his hands, bends her carefully almost in half, gets her legs up and over his shoulders. 

He’s struck by the overwhelming, desperate scent of her and it makes his head spin. 

He’s still hard, because she fucking sucked on his cock and then rolled a condom on and it’s been a long fucking time since he had her, but it’s been a little while for her. He reaches down, presses a thumb heavily against her clit. He rubs and strokes until she’s shaking underneath him once more. He plays with her until her blood is thudding heavy through her veins once more and he can feel the pleasure sparking through her nerves. 

He removes his thumb, uses his hand to hold her open for him instead. He positions himself between her legs and slowly pushes inside. 

It’s difficult to go slowly, to resist the urge to take the pleasure he’s waited all of these years for. But he refuses to hurt her, refuses to cause her any pain that she doesn’t ask for. She opens up easily enough for him, he did stretch her out before and fucked her senseless so she’s relaxed. But he’s still big and she’s still so tight and overwhelmingly hot around him. 

Fuck. It’s been twenty ish years since he’s had her, and about fifteen since he’s bothered with sex. Even with a condom on, even though she doesn’t belong to him just yet. It’s everything.

He stops pushing forward when he’s about half way inside of her. Dante realises that he’s panting a little bit too hard to fully focus, that he needs a little break. Her nails are digging heavy into his thigh and he adores it. Her eyes are closed tight, not from pain though, because he’d be able to feel it.

She opens them, looks up at him with blown pupils, “I can take more,” she groans, gasps at him while her voice catches in her throat. 

Dante’s head falls forward, hands in the air as the muscles in his neck stall from the surge of arousal that pulses heavy down his spine. He knows she can of course, that she can take him balls deep, but hearing her say it out loud is something else. 

He readjusts his grip on her hips. He thinks back to what she did with him all those years ago. He pulls out slightly and then pushes back in, slowly, carefully, gently. He continues with the motion even though she’s so tight, but he can feel her easing up around him. Her inner walls part for him and it’s not too much more until he realises he’s sunk all the way inside of her. 

Dante groans, growls as her tightness engulfs the entirety of his covered cock. 

“Shit,” she moans, trailing off and Dante lets out a small “oh,” at the sound that she makes. 

He’s only a little bit overwhelmed, even with a condom on she feels incredible. He feels like he’s home, like there’s some part deep inside of him that isn’t quite so empty anymore. There are sparks all around his cock and the pressure of her, the feeling of her heat and her body pressed against his own. He can’t describe it. He’s been alone for so long and now she’s here, joined with him, rocking her hips against him and pleading for him to move. 

She runs her hands up his thigh and his leg twitches. She presses her fingers to where they’re joined. Her touch sparks at the base of his cock and she yelps as his hips jolt. “Damn, I got you all the way in huh?” she smirks and then inhales sharply because her words make his dick jump heavily inside her. 

“Damn,” he whispers back to her in awe. Because he doesn’t think he’s coherent enough to say anything else. 

He tries to be gentle to start with, he really does, but it’s difficult to be gentle when he’s got so much to work with. He does his best though, adjusting her on the bed, using his hands on her hips and his own leverage to thrust against her. She tightens around him as he pushes inside, loosens slightly as he pulls away. He actually has to move his hips quite hard to fuck her, he’s worried he might not be able to control his strength. 

He sets a moderate pace and her breasts bounce with each thrust. Her eyes scrunch closed as her lips part in pleasure and soft cries escape from her throat. Her nails scratch at his hips and he leans down to kiss her. The pressure, the weight of him on top of her, it makes her tighter and he groans against her neck. 

She cries out, starting quietish and then turning into full blown wails as he adjusts her hips until he’s pistoning right up against where she needs him. He slams the head of his cock into her g spot, over and over in time with her frantic heartbeat until she’s trembling and shaking for him once more. 

He doesn’t need heightened senses to know that she’s close. 

He pulls her up and into his lap. He braces one arm against her back, a hand on the back of her hair. He pulls her against his chest, his other hand on her hip. He moves her in time with his thrusts, he’s strong enough that he can move her with just one hand. He buries his face against her hair, she’s so fucking hot, so tight. Fuck. 

He moves a hand desperately to her clit. He can’t take it anymore. “Fuck. You gotta come for me Sweetheart.” His voice is basically an inhuman growl at this point. He grits his teeth, roughly moving his fingers. He’s struggling to hold on, suddenly it’s just too much. He can feel every hitch of her breath around his cock, and the surges of pleasure it causes to spark against his skin. Everywhere he’s pressed against her sparks, pulses with energy. 

Horns threaten to erupt from his skull, but he tamps it down. Focuses on her arms around his shoulders, her teeth in his skin and nails pressed roughly into his skin. He’s grown fangs and he just hopes that she doesn’t notice. 

He has to make her come, has to feel her lose herself while he’s inside her. He’s going to fucking die if he can’t last and leaves her behind. 

God. Shit. There it is. She stops breathing for just a moment, her whole body going taught like a string. She comes with a loud wail right against his ear. She squeezes impossibly tight around him. It’s so difficult for him to thrust, not that he needs to anymore. He pulls her down on top of him, buries himself as deep inside her as he can and then finally lets the tension snap.

His orgasm is explosive. It lasts forever as years of tension release from deep inside of him and he empties deep inside her. It doesn’t even matter that there’s a condom with the way she’s trembling underneath him. He works her through her release with pulses of his hips and pressure against her clit as best as his sluggish body can. He works her until her hands are weakly pawing at him to stop and he can feel her release pooling at the base of his cock and dripping hotly down his balls. 

It’s been so long since he’s had anybody, so long since he’s felt anything like this. He wants to lie there and stay joined with her. Bury his face into her neck and inhale her sweet, sated scent. That’s a weird thing to do with your one night stand though. Dante prolongs the afterglow for as long as he can but eventually he has to pull out. 

She whines as he slides out of her. Dante sighs, it’s almost a physical ache as he pulls away from her. 

He rolls off her, chest still heaving. The room is so fucking hot all of a sudden, the air humid and difficult to breathe. 

They light there together, struggling to catch their breath. He keeps a hand on her arm, not wanting to crowd her too much but still wanting to feel her. He pulls off the condom, ties it and throws it into the barely ever emptied bin beside his bed. 

He turns to her, watches as her breathing slowly returns to normal.

“You can stay if you want,” he says to her, because he doesn’t want her to leave. 

“Thanks,” she turns to him. “I’m not even sure that I could walk right now. God I’m exhausted.”

“Me too,” he smiles. She looks beautiful, messy and blissed out. Perfect. 

She touches his arm gently, “do you mind if I?” She gestures wildly and he’s not sure what she wants but as far as he’s concerned, she can do anything she wants with him, so he nods. She lifts up his arm and lies on him, puts her head on his chest. “I like feeling close after.. You know?”

Dante grins, grunts and then wraps an arm around her and pulls her to his body. It’s perfect, feeling her pressed up against him, where she belongs. 

Her fingers play lazily with the hair on his chest and he runs his thumb across her back. 

“Why’d you choose me?” she says once she’s recovered her breath, turning to look up at him. “Why’d you choose me to break that amazing streak of yours?”

Dante drums his fingers idly against the bare skin of her hip, wondering what to say. Because I’ve been waiting for you for years? Because I love you and I’m obsessed with you, please don’t leave me? He decides on a shrug. 

“Was it worth it?”

“Hell yeah!”

She laughs, “I’m not quite sure why I approached you.” She smiles awkwardly, “I saw you sitting there and you were just radiating such intense fuck off vibes. It was amazing. Then you turned though, and you looked at me and suddenly they disappeared. Just made me wanna go and say hello.”

He can’t really reply to that, because that’s the truth. He wonders if she feels a pull towards him, because he’s bonded to her. He wonders if there’s a reciprocal connection. She hasn’t mentioned his skin sparking against her, but maybe she doesn’t feel it because she’s human. He really doesn’t understand how it all works. 

“Holy you, you exhausted me though.”

He grins, “me too Sweetheart.” He leans down to press a kiss to her forehead. He probably shouldn’t, but he’s blissed out and doesn’t care about the consequences. 

She burrows into his chest, “goodnight,” she whispers softly against his skin, tickling his chest hair. He reaches over and turns off the light and then it’s just the two of them in the dark. He can still see her clearly of course and he watches her breathing slow and her body relax. 

He finds his eyes getting heavy just watching her and for the first time in a long time, Dante finds that sleep comes easily to him. 

\---

She’s still there when he wakes up, not that he would have slept through her getting up to leave. She’s still asleep, breathing gently and curled up on his chest. 

It feels like last night was a dream, even though she’s right there and tangible. Even though there’s a surprising ache at his jaw and his hips, he still can’t believe it. There’s something sated now that wasn’t before, purring at the back of his skull. 

He pulls her tight to his body, squeezes her gently. It feels a little bit wrong, to take these small intimacies while she’s still sleeping, but he needs them, at least until she’s prepared to give them to him of her own accord. She lets out a small sigh at his movements, and buries in closer to his chest. 

His heart melts. 

They go another round when she wakes up, spooning. Her back pressed to his front while she grips tightly at the sheets and cries out his name to the heavens. It’s intimate this way, with his lips and teeth pressed to the back of her neck as he struggles desperately not to bite her. 

After a shower where he struggles to keep his hands to himself, she practically begs for him to eat her out again. He’s not going to say no to tasting her again, and he makes her come harder than she ever has before. 

By the time that’s all done, it’s basically dark out and it doesn’t take much to convince her to stay with him for another night. There’s no condoms left, but she’s exhausted and he’s pretty sated, so she curls up with him while they watch a shitty movie and eat pizza. 

Somehow he’s managed it, managed to get her to stay. When she reluctantly leaves the next day he has her number, and she has his. He still follows her home though, discreetly keeping to the roof tops. He needs to know where she lives, so that he can keep her safe, so he doesn’t lose track of her.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing, and doesn’t know where to go from here. He sits, waits by the phone for her to call him, holding himself back from dialing her number. He thinks about what he has to do, how now he can start moving forward with his life. He can’t afford to fuck this up, but every time he thinks about her smile and how she looks at him even though he’s basically a stranger, it makes him smile. He thinks that maybe he can do this, that maybe all he actually has to do is just be himself and that it will all work out. He hopes so, because he doesn’t think that he can pretend anymore, he’s held his head high for all this time, just like she asked him too, all that time ago and he’s more than ready to stop acting, even just for a moment.

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think?  
> Comments and Kudos Loved  
> Come find me on Twitter and Tumblr as TehRevving


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